Whitestone Monadnock feels like hope

@Craw

Celandine considered her King for a moment, still trying to wrap her head around what he wanted from her exactly. Trust, recognition, pain? What was the goal, the endgame? What if there wasn't one? Ha, she could have laughed. Nobody did /anything for anyone without expecting something in return. Maybe not right then and there, but eventually everyone came calling. Ah, now she was assuming Maeve really was in this Broken Timber Pines place with cousins that bore the Argyris name, but had never been mentioned. Gods, why was she so paranoid all of the time? If she could just calm down, find some lavender. Oh, they were still want for a medicine wolf if memory served her. 

"First light? I know you have to get things in order before you go," Honestly she wanted to get it over with; to wallow in another inevitable disappointment as quickly as possible so she could close this chapter. "If it's any trouble I can go myself." Her eyes scanned his features, awaiting a reaction. Gods she sounded pathetic—like an adolescent cub begging for permission. Celandine hated herself for stooping to such a level. So much so that she thought to release a snarky comment to ease the sickening feeling in her gut, but opted for silence instead. Things were tense enough between them already without her adding to it.

Have you seen my OOC preferences?

Unless you want to continue, feel free to archive, and I'll get the next one up! I'm glad I waited 'til this one was finished, actually :)

There was no point trying to unravel her thoughts any more, whatever she was thinking was being kept safely behind a well-build wall that Craw was unable to penetrate. While he knew the importance of intentions, ultimately, he judged based on actions. What Celandine chose to do with this information would be what he used to assess her. Fumbling around and failing to convincingly decipher her cool manner would get him no-where.

First light. He nodded, more than content with that decision, ears pricking as she continued, making noises to imply that she was an obliging, convenient creature, didn't want to hurry or impose. He tried not to fall into another pit of wondering if that politely masked a desperation to leave as quickly as possible, or whether she was really so laidback about it. Her final suggestion was met with a slight shake of the head.

"I am coming," he rumbled, " - I want to know who our neighbours are, regardless of whether or not Zeta was lying about Maeve." He wasn't going to tiptoe around her any longer. She'd dictated when, he'd dictated who. "First light," he grunted, turning away, leaving the princess to whatever private royal business he'd interrupted. "Be ready by the white stones."